Haunting -oneshot-
by cyanideCupcakes
Summary: They've broken up again, but this is the last time. He's going down, and it's time to crash and burn. FrUK. Oneshot.


**Hihi!**

**It's Maura-chaaan~**

**So my friend and I were listening to Funhouse by P!nk (I don't remember why) but we thought it would make a great FACE CMV.**

**I don't have people to cosplay with T-T So I wrote a fic instead.**

**Hope ya like it ^-^**

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_**I dance around this empty house **_

_**Tear us down, throw you out **_

_**Screaming down the halls **_

_**Spinning all around and now we fall.**_

He slammed the door behind him. The windows rattled from the force, and he stomped down the three concrete stairs that led up to that damn house. He brushed against one of the rosebushes lining the front walk, causing one of the thorns to dig into his shirt. He jerked away, tearing the sleeve, and swore. A petal fell, landing on the stones. Almost involuntarily, he snatched the rose and tore it from the stem, throwing the half-crushed flower to the ground.

_**Pictures framing up the past **_

_**Your taunting smirk behind the glass **_

_**This museum full of ash **_

_**Once a tickle, now a rash.**_

The glass from the picture frame was now scattered all over the floor. He ignored the horrid slicing feeling as the shards sliced at his feet. It wasn't the true pain. This pain was fake, used as only a way of seeing clearly, what is real, and what is not.

He picked up the picture frame and traced the jagged edge of the remaining glass, then looked at his finger. A bead of blood formed on the tip, then ran down the side- a beautiful crimson waterfall.

They looked almost happy, if such a thing was possible. He was smiling, a rare and strange thing, even before. Francis had his usual pervy grin, as if he was bragging to the world. _I won. He's mine, and no one else can have him. Ever._ Such lies.

_**Echoes knocking on locked doors **_

_**All the laughter from before **_

_**I'd rather live out on the street **_

_**Than in this haunted memory.**_

_ The door might break if he kept shaking it. "Angleterre, open this door. I know what you are thinking, and you are wrong."_

Do I care whether or not I am wrong..._ He didn't, not really. He had been waiting for a reason, here it was. He didn't answer._

_ "Please, cheri. I- It means nothing! You know what's he's like, yes? I tried to fight him off, I did."_

_ Arthur's laugh sounded more like a sob. "You? Fight someone off? Why do I doubt it?"_

_ "You know I would never do that to you."_

_ It was true. Francis would never intentionally hurt him. _This is a mistake. _"Oh yes, I'll believe that. I'll buy whatever crap you have to tell me, as always. Because I'm gullible, right? I'll believe anything you have to say." Arthur threw open the door. "I'll believe it when you tell me there's no one else. When you tell me there's never been anyone else for you. When you tell me you bloody love me- I believed it. All of it." He shoved France aside, sending him tumbling to the floor. "I can't put up with it anymore. I'm done."_

_ "Arthur-"_

_ "I don't want to hear it! Shut up. I've made my decision and it is final."_

_**I've called the movers, called the maids **_

_**We'll try to exorcise this place **_

_**Drag my mattress to the yard **_

_**Crumble, tumble, house of cards.**_

Burn it all. Anything that's a reminder. Like an exorcism... An exorcism of memories.

A house that can stand an earthquake falls in the slightest wind.

Flames, climbing high into the clear night sky, a beacon of death and destruction.

Nothing escapes the flames. Not a single trace will remain.

Like in the story. A fourth man in the flames, saving the others.

And they emerge untouched.

Scarlet on the glass.

Paper crumples as it burns.

Faces slowly distorted until they disintegrate into piles of blackness.

Flames are hands...

Reaching, grabbing, pulling...

Taking all they can touch...

There's a voice, somewhere.

Out there, beyond the flames.

I don't want to listen to it.

It's gone.

He's gone.

I'm gone.

He won't let it end.

Trying to pull me back into the pain.

The pain I feel is less than what was...

"Ma cheri- Angleterre! What- What are you doing!"

_**This used to be a Funhouse **_

_**But now it's full of evil clowns **_

_**It's time to start the countdown **_

_**I'm gonna burn it down, down, down **_

_**I'm gonna burn it down**_

_So this is how an angel dies_

_ All wrapped up in insane lies_

_ We'll blame it on my foolish pride_

_ As the story is coming to an end_

_ There's no use trying to pretend_

_ Nothing here and never was_

_ None of this happened because_

_ Flame devours its whole path_

_ Nothing can escape it's wrath_

_ Perhaps love can hold it back_

_ Bring down its savage attack_

_ But if there was nothing to begin_

_ How possibly can we win?_

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**I don't always kill off characters, but when I do, it's usually England.  
**

**I didn't like the ending at first... But now I kinda do.**

**Just a oneshot away, ja?**


End file.
